April was a fun exercise in forced efforts. Though, when I’m jumping on the bike at 11 o’clock at night to spin a 3 mile loop around the neighborhood so I can state that “I rode today”, the forced part resonates a bit more loudly. Which is not an indictment, mind you. A bit more of a description.

In fact, I’m a big fan of repetition and limitation. Glimpsing perfection within the form. Certainly, forms abound. From the idea of chopping wood and carrying water, to the sun salutation, to the grinding out of 200 kilometes in 13.5 hours (or, since this is a Paris-Brest-Paris year, 1200 km in 90 hours), once you agree to the Form, there’s no arguing with it. Within that, there is a certain amount of liberation, which in turn allows supreme focus upon a goal.

Limitation? Wow, that can be a touchy subject. With technology continuing to connect and compound itself, the last thing anyone wants to hear is anything about Limitation. My bias is that when everything is possible and the possibilities are limitless, that causes the most teeth-jarring stop of anything approaching creativity. We become aggregators rather than artists. Choosing the Limits, or agreeing to those Limits, forces creativity to spark.

Kind of big subjects for what was to be a simple and quick post with some numbers. Chalk it up to strong coffee and the burgeoning warmth of June…